


Green Flowers

by tanzertime



Category: Guys and Dolls - Loesser/Swerling/Burrows
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-01 23:22:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14531604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanzertime/pseuds/tanzertime
Summary: Nicely's a little smarter then people tend to give him credit for. Not much smarter, of course -- but he does read.Liked these two a lot, decided to make a little series. Simple little stuff, yknow





	1. Metaphors

There was the clatta-tat, clatta-tat of hooves, thundering along as they watched, pressed against the rail, with their sweaty hands holding tickets.  
“Nose ahead, nose ahead, bastard, come on —“  
Benny’s eyes narrowed as he mumbled. Nicely leaned on his shoulder, letting his eyes half-lid. He’d long since run out of betting money. Paul Revere was maybe a little lesser then his historical counterpart. He dozed in the beat-down summer sun, feeling sweat drip and soak into Benny’s yellow sleeve.  
They were on a little sojourn to Connecticut for just a weekend, enjoying a little time away from the stressful life of a small-time criminal. They’d happened on a little more money than usual as of last game, and hey, what’s better than picking from the paper? Getting to see the horses run about a foot in front of your nose, as they now were. Well, more than a foot. Several of them, really. But they were certainly close enough to smell, and Nicely had decided he preferred them in print.  
He flinched as the other’s shoulder rolled up. “Git up. One last race, you big baby.”  
Nicely whined, halfway like a dog, and did as he was told. He leaned on the bar with a sigh as the horses thundered past.  
“YES!” Benny barked, waving his ticket. “MILLION TO ONE, BUT I GOT 'IM!”  
“Ohh, Benny, congrats,” he managed, mopping his brow. “Let’s go collect your winnings, then, and —“  
“Can’t go now, Nicely!” He wiggled the ticket. “I’m on a roll!”  
Nicely flopped onto the guard bar, burying his head in his arms. “Benny, the heat’s gettin to me, is all — can’t you just quit while you’re ahead so we can get out of the sun?”  
“Mad cause you’re out of money,” Benny teased, peeling away a few dollars. “Go’n get yourself a little icecream. Or a drink. Whatever makes you gripe less.”  
“Can’t be going,” Nicely, who had resorted to fanning himself with his hat, whined. “With this crowd, I’d never get back up here.”  
“I’m holdin’ your place.” Benny’s eyes were trained on the track. The gates were clicking shut again. “G’wan. I’ve got two potatoes on Cinnamon Daydream. Can’t afford to move an inch.”  
Nicely sighed, pocketing the money. “Want anything?”  
“Eh...a gin. A gin, yeah.” He handed over another dollar, absent, eyes locked on the track. “Just to be sure.”  
“Puttin’ my nose in it now,” Nicely grumbled.  
“Heat’s baked your brain, you’re grouchier then I’ve ever known you.”  
Nicely didn’t dignify that with an answer and set about pushing through the crowd with the appropriate “‘scuse mes” and “pardons” for a man of his dexterous ability. He made his  
way to the little bar, endlessly grateful for the shade. His jacket was clinging to him like latex, and though he’d have been desperately happy to remove it, there was no way he’d breach etiquette so egregiously. He may be a gambler, and a criminal, and a man of more heart than mind, but he knew to not go around in shirtsleeves with strangers. He may as well have been naked then seen in shirtsleeves.  
Pondering aside, he mopped his brow with the rim of his hat and squinted at the menu. “Okay, so…”  
“What’ll it be?"  
“Oh!” Nicely drew back, apparently startled. “I was just reading, is all. Little print on the drink menu. Can hardly see a —“  
“Do you need me to read you the menu, sir?” The keep asked with a minor note of annoyance.  
“Oh, thank you, but I’m actually pretty fine at reading.” He couched his chin in his palm, drawn away again from his quest to read the contents of the menu. “You know, i was so  
good at reading, they almost sent me to a special school for it. Course, had to drop, cause I never bothered to remember my multiplication tables. The ones with sixes! Those always stopped me up. So they say, ‘young man, we’ll send you off to a big college, and you’ll learn how to read with the best of em, so long as you know your tables.’ And so I says —“  
“Sir, are you going to order?”  
“Oh!” Nicely chirped. “Gin. A gin and… oh, do you have anything sweet? And cool? Is there an ice cream stand around here —“  
The man slid him two cups. “Gin and a dulche de leche. Enjoy.”  
“OH, now THAT is fancy,” Nicely wheedled, rotating the glass so light caught it and made it shine. He picked carefully at the little umbrella. “It’s so sweet, where do you get these, I just love the little umbrellas. Where do you get these, really?”  
“Can you go?”  
“Certainly!” Nicely fumbled the money onto the table. It had been in his pocket for less then five minutes, but it was already crumpled and damp and mixed up with little bits of lint and string. “Thank you, sir!”  
The keep took the money and proceeded to ignore him as he went on his way. Nicely took a sip of the white cocktail -- cocktail, right, was that what it was called when it was fancy and mixed up like this? He couldn’t remember -- and it was cold, like a milkshake, and caramelly, leaving him content to sip it in the shade as the bell rang yet again. The taps prattled over the track as the gates were reloaded. Nicely took another sip of his drink. He should really be getting back to -- oh, there was bacardi in this, that was fancy -- getting back to, ah…  
He glanced at the drink in his hand. To Benny, he had to get back to Benny. He looked at the wall of a crowd and sighed. Benny was all the way at the front, through a mass of sweaty people who were losing a lot of money. He rocked on his feet, suddenly nervous. Benny would be annoyed if he took too long. Benny, Benny who was making him sit around at this smelly horsetrack well after he’d run clean out of betting funds. Benny who wouldn’t throw him a dollar or two himself. He suddenly felt less bad about not wanting to brave the crowd.  
But then, there was a split in the crowd, and he saw him at the bar. Another man crowded next to him, and he shooed him. Of course, above the impenetrable din of the crowd, he couldn’t hear their conversation, but he could read body language well enough, working on the streets for so long. Benny rolled back his shoulders and kept leaning on the bar. The other man was barking at him, rolling up his sleeves -- now, see, he was rude, going around in shirt-sleeves.  
Nicely nudged his way back up to the front, mindful of the drinks in his hand and the toes he was stepping on. He shouldered between the man and Benny, handing over the drink. “There y’are. Heya, sir, mind stepping over a bit, I just need to --”  
The man growled and turned away. Benny sipped his drink, eyes back on the track. “Toldya I’d save the spot.”  
“Aww, Benny, don’t go and get into any scraps for my sake.” He took another sip of the dulche de leche, already halfway through. “I was looking for an excuse to sit in the shade anyhow.”  
“Two more races, Nicely. I mean it, two more.” Benny took another sip and leaned in, brow lowered.  
“You got awful stormy.”  
“Lost a chunk on the last one.” He waved the ticket absently, taking another sip of his gin. “Got a tip from Charlie about that Cinnamon good-for-nothing. Can’t trust that Charlie so far as you throw him.”  
“Least it’s cooling down a bit.” A few clouds were rolling over the sun, and more were crawling up from the edge of the sky. “Y’know, I might stand a few more rounds if you loan me something or the other to bet with…”  
“I’ve seen your pockets, Nicely,” Benny teased. “You pick horses on names alone.”  
“Well, hey!” Nicely polished off his drink. “Might as well, what’s a mathematician know about horses?”  
“More than you.”  
The shorter man crinkled his nose at that. He couldn’t think of anything to say back, which was unfortunate, as talking was his favorite pastime.  
The gates loaded up again. Benny leaned forward on the rail as Nicely yawned. He wasn’t used to going for so long, and the sun always took it out of him anyways. He leaned on Benny’s shoulder and shut his eyes, trying to tune out the din around him. Benny shifted so he didn’t have to crane his neck. Nicely hummed and dozed as the rifle shot off again.  
He snapped back to reality when a drop landed on his nose. Nicely looked up under the brim of his hat to find the sky had gone and filled itself with grey, towering piles of clouds. Benny noticed his waking and nudged him off, looking far more sullen then when he’d looked at him last. “Alright, we’re going.”  
“Aw, Benny, you look sour.”  
“I brought along a thousand dollars today. At one point, I had gone and won ten times that.” The other man shrugged off his jacket as the rain began to come down harder. “I’m leaving here with nine-hundred dollars.”  
Nicely hissed. “Oh, Benny…”  
“Remind me to go and kick in Charlie’s teeth.”  
“No, no, none of that. Charlie meant the best by it.”  
“Yeah, sure, Charlie meant the best by it.” He popped his coat above his head as a makeshift umbrella and turned, starting to push his way out of the crowd.  
Nicely considered telling him how rude it was to go around in shirt-sleeves, but decided he seemed too upset for him to push the issue much. As they weaseled out of the rapidly thinning crowd, the rain pattered down harder and harder, and Nicely pulled in on himself like that would make the drops ignore him. Suddenly, the water stopped, and he looked over and saw that Benny had shifted over and was now covering him as well. “Thanks, Ben.”  
The other man just huffed. They made their way out onto the street. They’d rented a room a few blocks down from the track about as cheap as they could scrape up without it being a health hazard. As they made their way towards it, a figure stepped out of an alley.  
The two stopped short.  
“Shame, shame, shoulda stuck around. I’d have the spot then.” The man from before grinned down at them like a shark in a thin aquarium. He spun his knife in his fingers expertly. “Tell me, how were your drinks?”  
“This is too much fuss for a spot on the track,” Benny said with a note of caution.  
“Good, actually,” Nicely chirped. “Have you had it? Dulche de Leche, it was so sweet, really, like a milkshake almost --”  
He cut off with a yip of pain as Benny crushed his toe.  
“Oh, Dulche de Leche? Sounds pretty good,” the man replied.  
“It was!"  
“I’d like to try that. Care to loan me the means to do so?”  
“Well, you’ll need to go back into the track, then on the second story there’s a little bar with --”  
The knife poked into his throat. “I meant the money, tubby.”  
“Hey, hey, woah, alright,” Benny stepped in, trying to keep his voice soothing. “No need for that. He’s cleaned. I watched it happen, lost the last of it on Paul Revere four hours ago.”  
“Well, one of you oughta have a little dough,” the man decided. He pressed a little harder with the knife. Nicely swallowed, his adam’s apple shifting the blade.  
“I do. I do. I have a hundred,” Benny lied, smoothly. “I’ll give you every cent of it and you can be on your way.”  
“Hundred, now?” the man clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Way he was all leaned up on you, I’d think he’s worth a little more than that.”  
“It ain’t... “ Benny looked like he had more to say on the matter, but he shelved it for another day. He pulled out the bills instead. “A hundred. It’s all I got in the world. Buncha lousy wagers near the end, there, lost almost every other cent.”  
“To be fair, that’ll cover the cost of the drink,” Nicely supplied.  
“Nicely,” Benny hissed.  
“What? That’s what he’s getting.”  
“What is this guy, your charge or something?” the man asked.  
“Don’t matter what he is. Put down the knife, take your money, be on your way.” Benny held out the small bundle of bills.  
The man finally snapped the knife shut and took the paper. He tipped his hat and smiled. “Pleasure doing business.”  
“Likewise,” Benny growled.  
Nicely rubbed his neck where the knife had been. “Ahh… thank you.”  
Benny sighed, popping the jacket back up over their heads. “Let’s just go before I lose anything else.”

They bustled back to the motel, wary of every street corner and alley. Settling into their room, Nicely wrung out his hat and held a little bit of tissue against the little cut on his neck.  
“...Lemme see that.”  
“Huh?”  
“Lemme see it, the spot on your neck.”  
“It’s nothing, Ben. Dontcha worry about it.”  
Benny’s brow furrowed. He’d taken off the sopping wet jacket and hat and was standing in his shirt-sleeves, curly blonde hair cemented to his forehead. “Let me worry about it.”  
“Aww, Benny, now that’s sweet of you!”  
“Just tip your damn head back.”  
He finally obliged. The cut was nothing serious at all, nothing worse than a shaving-nick. Benny rubbed over it with his thumb and was satisfied to see it had stopped bleeding. “Least the dummy used a dull knife.”  
Nicely reached up and pushed his hair back.  
Benny slapped his hand away. “What’re you doing?”  
“What?” He defended, shrugging. “It’s all stuck to your forehead. You oughta shower.”  
“You’re always adjusting me.” Benny pulled back, pushing the curls back himself, seemingly self conscious. “Tie, suspenders, hat, can’t go a day without you trying to spit-shine me.”  
“Well, Benny, you’re so handsome, I just hate to see you look scruffy!”  
The other man paused. “What?”  
“You’re so handsome, I hate to see you look scruffy.”  
“...Nicely, you can’t go calling me handsome.”  
He blinked. “Huh?”  
“Guys don’t go around calling eachother handsome, Nicely, you should know that at thirty.” Benny stood and moved to the bathroom, grabbing one of the crusty towels and drying his hair. The curls puffed up something wild. “It’s odd. Y’know? It’s off. Y’don’t do it.”  
“Mimi’s always dotting on how Miss Adelaide looks.”  
“It’s different!”  
“It is?”  
“They’re dolls!”  
“Yeah, but --”  
“Are we dolls, Nicely?”  
Nicely furrowed his brows. “Not since last I checked.”  
Benny deigned to ignore that. “Then we don’t go around like that, calling eachother handsome.”  
“Can I call you pretty?”  
“NICELY,” he snapped, “That’s worse.”  
“Meant it with the kindest intentions, Ben, I really did.” Nicely lowered his gaze like a shamed dog. “Didn’t mean anything mean by it. Like your hair, is all. Curled up like that. It looks soft. I always wanna play with it.”  
“You are being a real weirdo today. The sun baked your brain, I swear.”  
“I’m no weirdo, I’m just tactile!”  
“Tactile?”  
“Tactile, means you like to touch things.”  
“Nicely, where in God’s name do you learn words like tactile, then turn around and not know how to talk to any human alive without making them worry that I’m your ‘handler?’”  
“I just read a lot!” Nicely shifted back in his chair, pulling off his coat and hat. “I’m sorry, Benny, I didn’t mean to set you off, I wanted to --”  
“You read a lot?”  
Nicely blinked, hanging up his things on the back of the door. “Yeah, why?”  
“I didn’t expect it from you, is all.” Benny sat down on the bed, fussing with his tie. “I’ve just never seen you with a book in your hands.”  
“I go to the library to do it.” Nicely muttered. “You aren’t mad at me, right? You’re not mad?”  
“I…” Benny sighed. “I’m not mad. You just, uh…” He motioned like he was trying to pull the word from the air. “You spooked me, is all.”  
“I spooked you?”  
“You startled me. I’m showering,” he tacked on before Nicely could ask another question. He took up the towel and moved into the bathroom. “You oughta shower too, when I’m out. I’m not sleeping in here if you smell like horses.”  
Nicely watched the door shut and the shower squeal on. He felt bad. He didn’t know quite why. He just hated to upset Benny, even if he didn’t know what had upset him. He hadn’t been lying. Benny was very handsome. He’d even count him as pretty -- lean and tall, big blue eyes, yep, the same kind of pretty as Miss Sarah. He fussed as he stripped down to his underwear, worrying the hole on the hem of his undershirt. Maybe there was some thread in the bedside drawer --  
He dug through and found a book. Oh, the bible! He’d heard good things. It was certainly on his too-read list. He’d forgotten his own book anyhow, but he didn’t like to read when he was in the middle of another book, it just got his mind all mixed up, and next thing he knew he’d be trying to recount Frankenstein and Jane Eyre would be there. He set it aside, continuing to dig. The only thing he found was a little ripped foil packet. He crinkled his nose at that and hoped the former contents were more properly discarded of.  
After a minute, the shower shut off, and his search had proved fruitless. He was trying to fuss something together with floss and patience when Benny emerged and furrowed his brow. “What are you up to now?”  
“Oh, hey, Benny!” He didn’t glance up from his mission, continuing to try to wheedle the floss through the thin fabric.. “Do you have a needle and thread? I have this hole in my undershirt and nothing to fix it with --”  
“Why would I have a needle and thread?”  
“I dunno, shot in the dark.” He glanced up and stopped short. “Oh, Benny!”  
“If this is another comment about any of my looks, Nicely --”  
“How come I can see your ribs?”  
Benny blinked. “What?”  
He had only a towel wrapped around his waist. Nicely stood and reached for one of the jutting bones.  
“Hey!”  
“Are you eating enough?”  
“Nicely!” Benny slapped away his hand and turned, grabbing his undershirt and pulling it on as quick as he could with one hand occupied keeping the towel up. “Quit it with your poking and prodding for once, alright, just let it be!”  
“Aw, Benny, I can’t help it, I told you, I’m a very tactile person!”  
“Well park your tactile-ness at the door when it comes to me and mine, alright?” he grabbed his underwear from the floor and gave Nicely a sharp poke in the chest. “People are gonna start getting some kinda idea.”  
“Tactility, Benny.”  
“What?”  
“Tactileness isn’t a word, is all. If you wanna make tactile into a noun, it’s tactility.”  
Benny shook his head slowly, staring at the other man in silence for a long moment. “Ten years I’ve known you, and it’s taking you one night to drive me as absolutely nuts as you do everyone else.”  
“Aww, Benny,” he whined, “You don’t mean it, right?”  
“...Just go and shower, Nicely,” Benny sighed.

The water, of course, ran cold and came out slower than a dry cow makes milk. He tried to make due. As he made a valiant attempt to wash the suds out of his hair, there was a knock at the door.  
“Any particular reason the bible is pulled out?”  
“I was lookin for a needle, is all.”  
He heard Benny give an exasperated sigh. “Figured Masterson was getting to your head with all that mission nonsense.”  
“Naw, don’t worry, Benny.” Nicely shut off the water and started to dry off, still shouting through the door. “I’m still a godless heathen, I just go by when they set out donuts.”  
“Heathen.” He could vaguely hear pages turning from behind the door. “Nicely, you have a real name?”  
Nicely paused in the middle of brushing his teeth. “Uh… why?”  
“I’ve known you, ten years, never bothered to ask.”  
Nicely had to turn that over in his mind. They’d been introduced through Nathan, years ago. They hadn’t been much in the way of friends, just coworkers, until three years back. Still. Even he, his grip on societal norms loose as it was, figured that it was odd to not know someone outside a silly nickname after ten years.  
He pulled on his undergarments and poked his head out. “Atticus.”  
Benny looked at him for a moment. The bible was sat, popped open, in his hand.  
“My real name’s Atticus.”  
“That’s not what I’d have thought.”  
“Well, what’s your real last name, then?”  
“What?”  
“Aww, Benny, no way your real last name is Southstreet.” He opened the door the rest of the way and went back to brushing his teeth. “I told you my real first name, now, you tell me your last one.”  
Benny pursed his lips. “Smith.”  
“Smith?” Nicely spit up the froth and washed his mouth out. “Aww, Benny Smith!” He chirped, delighted. “That’s the name of a man who works at the A&P.”  
“Now, this is why I don’t tell you,” Benny griped, snapping the bible shut. “You’re mean, behind all those bubbles and ditz, you’re mean.”  
“Aww. Don’t mean a thing by it.” Nicely stepped out of the bathroom and patted him on the cheek. “Benny Smith ain’t a bad name at all. I like Southstreet better by a deal, though.”  
“N’ so do I.” Benny leaned against the wall facing the bathroom door. “Atticus Johnson, though.”  
“It was my grandfather’s.” Nicely moved to the bed and flopped down with a stretch. “Are you reading that bible?”  
Benny made a face. “I ain’t gonna read no holy book.”  
“Then let me have it.”  
Benny glanced up at him, confused. “Masterson and that doll of his are getting to you, Nicely. What’re you wanting it for?”  
“I just wanna read the back.” He held out a hand for the book. “Read a plot summary. See what everyone is so riled up about.”  
Benny barked a laugh and tossed it to him. “Nicely, nicely, I’d love to read your mind once in a while.”  
“Oh, thank you!” He caught the book and cracked it as Benny settled in next to him. “Tiny text. Say, Benny, I really am worried about those ribs of yours.”  
The gambler sighed. “Just when you’d won me back.”  
“Look, you can’t see any of my bones!” Nicely lifted his shirt along his ribs, making an effort to pin down the shirt on his stomach with his elbow.  
“Yeah, well you’ve got a little more than most people would be content with, and I’ve got a little less. Call it even,” Benny grumbled, rolling over so he faced away from the other man.  
“Aww, I don’t mind it.” he poked the pocket of flab on his stomach. “S’not half so bad as people seem to think. Better in the winter,” he decided. He got no response. “Benny, did I make you mad?”  
“Now, what sold it?”  
“I didn’t mean to, honest, Benny, I didn’t!”  
“You…” The gambler rolled back over onto his back. “I know you didn’t, is the thing. I know you didn’t.”  
“I’m real sorry. I’ll try to stop doing whatever it is that made you so mad. Just gotta tell me.”  
“And that’s the thing!” Benny exclaimed, annoyed. “It’s nothing that should! It’s nothing that should at all.” He motioned like he was throwing something off. “It’s not nearly getting us stabbed in an alley, it’s not that, it’s something I can hardly even think about, let alone say.”  
Nicely rolled on his side, facing the other. “Well I still want to hear it.”  
Benny gave him a glance that held a little too long before he turned back to the ceiling. “I’ve never known you to go steady with anyone, right?”  
“Aww, Benny, are you worried about me?”  
“In a matter of speaking.” Benny seemed to take a moment to pick his words. “Guess what I’m worried about is… how come?”  
“Oh, you know how dolls are!” Nicely fluffed the pillow under his head and snuggled into it. “So much work, and all. Tie you down, can’t do this, can’t do that -- y’know how Nathan and Miss Adelaide are?”  
“They’re happy enough.”  
“Guess so. But now they’ve gotta work harder to be happy then they ever did before.”  
“Spent a lot more time being upset before, too.”  
“Huh. Fair enough.” Nicely yawned. “Anyhow, that’s how I see it, is all. A lot of work. More than it’s worth, really. I’m content having a few friends and no dolls. Though, I guess I’m friends with a few dolls. That has to count for something. Being friends with Miss Sarah and Miss Adelaide, does that count?”  
“No, no, Nicely --” Benny rubbed over his eyes. “It’s not having a doll, is the issue. That’s what gets me upset, is that you don’t have a doll.”  
“You don’t either.”  
“That’s what I’m --”  
“Wait!” Nicely pulled the name from thin air. “Miss Roxy! You went with Miss Roxy for a few months. Then she just stopped coming around. Are you still torn up about Miss Roxy?”  
“Nicely, I’m the one who broke things off with Roxy.”  
“Right, but that doesn’t mean you can’t miss her and all. Plenty of books where that happens. Society’ll go and tear them apart --”  
“Alright, you read so much, right?” He said with a note of enlightenment. He hopped to his feet, moving to the crudy desk in the corner of the room. He popped up and sat on it, looking at the other man on the bed. “You haffta’ve read a few stories about love and all that. Tell me about that. Tell me what you know about that…” he waved off the subject. “All of that crud.”  
“Well, it’s supposed to be a pretty nice thing, all around.” He sat up, leaning against the wall. “But it can also do some pretty awful things. Make people go crazy and all. Y’know I read the Hunchback of Notre Dame, and this guy in there, Frollo, he fell in love with this girl, Esmeralda. So he went and had her killed. I don’t remember why, really. So it’s pretty good, but it’ll go and make people to dumb things.” he paused, dusting around his mind for any new thoughts he had on the subject. “Now I’ve told you all of this before, Benny. I thought we were unified on this one.”  
“Yeah, yeah.” He motioned for him to continue. “Go on, Clear it up a bit more for me. Why do they go crazy, why do they go and do terrible things?”  
“...Well, lotta reasons.” He began to rock, trying to remember. “So there’s the Hunchback book, and it’s been a while since I read that, but I suppose it’s because… she was married, I think. I think she was married. That was probably it.”  
“There, yeah.” Benny was fussing with the pens, looking anywhere but Nicely. “So she didn’t return any of his affections.”  
“Don’t think so.” Nicely pondered for a moment. “But I think it was something else, too. Can’t quite recall it. Aw, what was it, what was it…” he snapped. “Oh! He was a priest. So it was forbidden.”  
Benny’s eyes lit up at that. “Right, okay, okay, forbidden love, okay, now follow me here --”  
“You know, one time I was reading this book, one about a fella in a painting, and this guy sidled up to me and started talking a lotta hey about the guy who wrote it. Some Oscar,” he noted, sitting back, trying to pull the details up in his mind. “Something about green flowers. Something about asking me if I liked green flowers,” he dug up. “So I tell him, I’ve never heard of any green flowers. And he offers to show me a whole garden of them. So I say, sure, of course! But then he says I’d have to go back to his apartment to see them, and it was about that time where I should be rounding up Harry and all for the game, so I told him: tomorrow. I’ll see the flowers tomorrow, if he’d still like to show me them. He went off and seemed a little disappointed. Suppose if I had a buncha green flowers I’d be excited to show them off too. But he wasn’t by the place tomorrow, no matter how long I waited. Just about the whole day.”  
Benny squinted at him for a long moment. “Nicely, is there anything between your ears?”  
“A brain, I suppose.”  
Benny rubbed his eyes. “Nevermind. Nevermind it all, alright, you just roll over and go to bed --”  
“Hey, now, I haven’t finished up my story!” Nicely stretched leisurely and set back in. “So the green flowers. I’m curious, right? I go to the librarian, I’m done with the book, had an ending you wouldn’t believe! Course, I won’t spoil it for you, in case you ever get around to reading it. Anyways, I ask the librarian for books about flowers. Gladys -- Oh! Her name’s Gladys, just a sugar-sweet old lady -- Gladys asks me what I’m looking for flower-books for, so I tell her, someone came in offering to show me a green flower. And I assume there’s only so many green flowers, and I’d love to see one, as they must be rare something awful.”  
“Nicely, is there a point to this story?”  
“Yeah, yeah, okay! Hold on!” Nicely flipped through the bible, skimming it. “So she says, a guy asked you about seeing a green flower? I say, of course, yea, just at that table over there. And Gladys is laughing up a storm. She says, ‘Nicely, honeypie, that was a queer! Asking you about a green flower, he was asking you on a date.’” Nicely snapped the book shut. “Course I’ve heard of queers and such. Didn’t know anything about green flowers. Still not quite sure what the connection was there, she couldn’t tell me either.” He flipped the bible over to the back and scrutinized it. “Not a single review! Must be a niche thing, then. I’ll ask Miss Sarah for a copy when I get back,” he decided, tossing the book in the drawer.  
Benny stared at him for a long moment. “...Well?”  
“What?”  
“Jesus almighty, the POINT, Nicely.” He took a sip of his water. “You said there was a point. Go ahead and enlighten me on it.”  
“Oh! Right.” Nicely leaned forward, looking up at him. “You’re thinking about planting a coupla’ green flowers in your garden, aren’t you?”  
Benny choked on his next sip. He sputtered into the cup, setting it aside and hacking up the water that had shot down into his lungs.  
“Oh, Benny!” Nicely hustled over to him and patted him on the back. “Just keep coughin’, alright, bring it up --”  
“Nicely,” he managed between coughs, “you can’t just drop that on me, alright, can’t just sandwich it between twenty pounds of rambling…”  
“Oh, you know me, I just like to talk.” He rubbed the other’s back as his coughing started to subside. “There, drink carefully now on, alright?”  
“I... Nicely…” Benny wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yea. To answer your question, yea, alright, I’ve considered… planting some green flowers.”  
Nicely gave him another pat on the back, gentler this time, more reassuring. “Coulda just said that off the bat.”  
“Well… thoughts?” Benny hazzarded. “Don’t sit there and stare at me. You’re pickin up the hairs on the back of my neck.”  
“Oh! Right,” Nicely said, returning to the topic at hand. “That’s fine enough by me. We’re going to hell for all the gamblin’ anyhow, apparently, so I don’t think it’s gonna make anything worse.”  
“...Well, great, alright!” Benny threw his hands up. “Get to bed, now, let’s get to bed. Another good talk, thank you, Nicely.”  
“Now why are you annoyed? Benny,” he whined as the other man went and tucked himself into bed. “Benny, just finish out your thoughts!”  
“I’m all finished with ‘em!” Benny declared from beneath the sheets. “No more thoughts in my head. Hit the light, Nicely. Sweet dreams.”  
Nicely crossed his arms and tried to glare. “Benny Smith, spend one more second ignoring the elephant and I’ll be plenty upset with you.”  
“Not ignoring any elephants. We just talked about the elephants. Ushered ‘em outta the room, sent ‘em back to the zoo.”  
“Benny.”  
There was a long moment before the covers rustled again and Benny sat up. “Alright, yeah, there’s one more elephant. I’m gonna warn you, though. It’s an ugly old thing.”  
“G’wan,” he encouraged, hopping up on the desk that the other had formerly occupied.  
Benny leaned back against the wall, locking his eyes on the ceiling. “How’s your garden?”  
“My garden?”  
“The flowers, what colors to you like to plant in there, huh?” he managed a quick glance down, then swallowed hard and went back to the ceiling. “Just tell me, alright, tell me if you’ve got any… different kinds of flowers. Hell, if you have a garden at all, at this point.”  
Nicely had to turn it over for a second. “We got a little wrapped up in metaphors there.”  
“Yep.”  
“Well, alright, Benny. I’ve got a garden, sure.” He kicked his feet, closing his eyes, scanning over it mentally. “Lotta sunflowers, lotta roses. Lotta violets.”  
“Anything odd?”  
“Gotta tomato plant in the corner. Ripe and ready to burst,” he decided. “Some carrots. A little vegetable patch in the corner, I guess.”  
“...Alright. Alright. That’s… that’s a fine garden, Nicely.” He heard the sheets rustle as he settled back into the sheets. “Come on to bed, then. I put the blankets on funny so you could sleep on top of the sheet while I’m on the bottom of it.”  
“Hold on, now, I haven’t looked at the thing in a while!” Nicely hummed, imagining the fields of blues, reds and yellows. “Oh! I found something odd in there!”  
“Did you, now,” Benny mumbled into his pillow with all the enthusiasm of a criminal seeing a bow tied in his noose.  
“Yep!” Nicely opened his eyes and grinned. “A ruffled thing. A little ruffled carnation, in the funniest shade of green.”  
He saw Benny sit for a moment, then sit up like he’d been shocked. “Green?”  
“Green.”  
“You said the thing was green?”  
“Green as the stem it’s sitting on, yeah.”  
“So you’ve a green flower in there, even just a little one?”  
Nicely hummed happily.  
Benny buried his face in his hands. “Oh, God, nonsense, what’re we doing, sitting here talking about flowers...”  
“Lot easier then talking about people, is probably why.”  
“Woof.” Benny rubbed over his brow. “Go on and drag me outsde and shoot me for dancing around it so long. Go on and drag you outside for it, too! Why’d you sit there and keep me on the coals for twenty minutes, talking about tomatoes?”  
Nicely just shrugged.  
Benny sighed. “Went and got you all wrapped up, imagining flowers -- this is some real doll talk, y’know?”  
Nicely rocked back and forth. “Well what are you supposing we do with them?”  
“With what?”  
“With the flowers, Benny,” Nicely supplied like it was obvious, “With the green flowers. You just wanna keep ‘em in the field?”  
“Now you’re really dancing around it.”  
“I kinda like it,” Nicely admitted. “It’s like a fun little code.”  
“Certainly a code I don’t have any key to.” Benny pulled his knees to his chest. “Say your thoughts plain, alright?”  
“No fun in that, but fine.” He leaned forward, propping his chin up on his hands. “Is that why you were mad about me calling you handsome? Scared about it?”  
“Wasn’t scared, nervous.”  
Nicely shrugged. “Same difference.”  
“...Alright, yeah, fine.” Benny pushed back his curly hair, still damp from the shower. “I was nervous. I’m not sure of anything yet, you know? I still like a good doll. Don’t mind having one around. But it was scratching at the back of my head.”  
“Then how about this.” Nicely stood and moved to the bed, settling down next to him. “We’ll kiss. Just once! Just to see. Don’t like it, we move on. And it’s not like either of us can go and tattle on the other. You’d be telling everyone about yourself as well.”  
Benny looked at him for a good while.  
“Benny?”  
“...Yeah, alright, alright, okay. Yeah. It’s a good idea.” He cleared his throat. “So… I’ll just…”  
They both leaned in at once, noses crashing into each other.  
“Hey!” Nicely held his like he was fixing to pop it back in place. “Slow down a little, alright?”  
“You slow down a little! You had your head turned wrong,” Benny claimed, voice nasally as he pinched his own nose.  
“S’how I always kiss.”  
“S’how you always kiss dolls.”  
“Alright, alright.” Nicely let go of his nose with one last massage. “Then one of us is the doll.”  
“Well, that’s clearly you.”  
“That’s me?”  
“Yeah, you got the temperment for it!”  
“Yeah, well you got the looks for it!”  
“Alright, alright, hey!” Benny barked. “Don’t have to happen. I don’t have to go kissin you.”  
“I don’t have to go kissing you!”  
“Then I guess we won’t go kissin’!”  
“Fine by me, grouchy old…” Nicely huffed and turned away.  
They sat in silence for a moment before Benny spoke up again.  
“You turn your head a little right, I’ll turn mine a little left,” he instructed, still not turning to face him.  
“Deal,” Nicely agreed, doing the same.  
So they did.

Benny’s lips were different then a doll’s. They weren’t as soft, didn’t have the tackiness of lipstick, and he had just a little stubble on his face, which he hadn’t seen on account of it being blonde, but now it was scratching him just a little.  
They didn’t kiss very long. Benny pulled back.  
“Alright. That wasn’t… that wasn’t so bad.” he fussed with the sheets. “I’ll even say I liked it.”  
“I thought it was nice!”  
“Thank you.”  
“Needa shave, though.”  
“Couldn’t, we were in such a rush to get down here.”  
“Oh.”  
They sat in silence for a moment, staring straight ahead at the wall opposite.  
“Think Miss Sarah will be a fan of this?” Nicely finally ventured.  
“Miss Sarah isn’t a fan of most of the things we do, but… yeah, this may tip her over.”  
“Huh.” Nicely continued his focus on a bit of chipped paint. “D’ywanna kiss again?”  
“Yeah.”  
So they did.  
If any of the boys had seen them kiss a doll that way, they’d have laughed them outta the city. Chaste and gentle, like they were both scared the other would decide to take a bite out of them instead at any moment. Nicely ventured so far as to put a hand on the other’s face, pulling him in a little closer. They pulled back to breathe, then went in again, calm and simple and slow. It wasn’t world-changing, but it was pretty nice.  
They pulled back again, Nicely keeping his hand on Benny’s jaw.  
“Alright, I made up my mind,” Benny managed.  
“Yeah?”  
“I’m planting some green flowers.”  
“Oh, Benny!” Nicely cooed, delighted. “That was so poetic!”  
“Wasn’t it?” He paused for a beat. “Don’t tell the guys I said that. Don’t tell the guys any of this.”  
“Course not.”  
“...Oh, God.” Benny dragged his hands down his face. “The guys. Oh, the guys won’t like this --”  
“Oh, Ben, they won’t find out!”  
“And if they do?”  
Nicely shrugged. “They just won’t. No need to tell them. They’re not the asking sort, either.”  
Benny bit his knuckle. “Guess not. Hope not. Oh, Sky’d put me over the coals for this…”  
“Aw, just…” Nicely kissed him on the cheek. “They ain’t in Connecticut. I’m tired, Benny. Let’s go to bed.”  
“Wh-- bed? Now?” Benny looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “You ain’t worried?”  
“I’m a little too tired to be worried.” Nicely patted him on the cheek and rolled over, snapping the light off. “G’night, Benny.”  
There was a long moment before the bed next to him shifted. Not that Benny had a lot of weight to shift with, of course, but he was settled down into the mattress. There was another moment before there was the sift of fabric over fabric as he scooted over. Nicely felt their backs press against each other.  
“What’re you doing?”  
“I -- I don’t… you know, you get in with a doll, you lay by her!”  
“I’m no doll!”  
“I don’t mean it --” he scooted away. “I don’t mean it that way. Just don’t know what territory goes where.”  
Nicely yawned again. “Fine, then, stay cuddled up against me if you want. But I’m a sweater.”  
There was yet another moment. Benny scooted back onto his back, but a little closer this time..  
“Benny.”  
“Just let me try it out.”  
“I like it fine, really, it’s just the middle of summer, is all.”  
“Yeah, but --” Benny was surprisingly soft. “Let me try it out.”  
Nicely rolled over and pulled him into a hug from behind. “G’night.”  
“Too far! Too far!”  
Nicely giggled and hugged tighter.  
“Nicely! Nicely! You’re pushin the air out of me!”  
“I can still feel all those ribs you’ve got all popped up.”  
“Alright, alright, I get it!” he rolled away a bit and turned over so they were facing each other. “Sue me! I got a little keyed up, is all. I’ve been trying to --”  
“Keyed up?” Nicely asked, drawing back. “Benny, if I don’t know how to go about kissing you, I certainly don’t know how to --”  
“Christ on a chain, Nicely,” Benny snapped. “Not like -- you’re making me regret this, you know that, right?”  
Nicely blinked at that. Oh. That stung, at least a little.  
His eyes had adjusted to the low light, and he saw Benny with a furrowed brow and a creased frown. Oh, he knew that look.  
“You’re scared, huh?”  
“Ain’t scared,” Benny replied, clearly scared.  
“Don’t be scared.” he patted him on the cheek. A gesture from before that took on a little more weight now -- or if not more weight, a different weight, like a pound of feathers versus a pound of rocks. “Got some time to sort it out. Nathan says I can’t think with my head, but I can think a little bit with my heart. That’ll do us good here, right?”  
Benny paused, looking at him for a moment. “If anything will.”  
“So don’t be scared.”  
Benny leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. “Night, ah, what was it…”  
“Nicely?”  
“Atticus,” he remembered. “Night, Atticus.”  
Nicely yawned. “Night, Ben.”  
So they closed their eyes and went on, peacefully, into the future.


	2. Pretty Good Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I liked green flowers. here's another little chapter

Benny smoked a little, not often, just after dinner and whenever he was anxious. His lips wrapped around the cigarette now and he shielded the spark of the lighter from the breeze coming off the people around them. The bar was crowded with people and speech.   
He got it lit and took a drag. Feeling himself start to calm down already, he tipped his head back and puffed up into the ceiling.   
“Oh, Benny,” Nicely fretted, “we haven’t eaten yet. Are you getting shook up again?”  
Benny drained his glass to the bottom. “In a sense.”  
“Oh, Ben —“ his eyes quickly skimmed the room, and his hand flicked onto the other’s. The heavier man leaned in, dropping his voice. “What’s wrong, huh?”  
Benny gave him a pat on the back of the hand, their little code for there are eyes on us, and Nicely went back to dutifully cracking his peanuts. The lanky man took another drag, looking languidly around the room. “Nothing we can discuss here.”  
“Oh, there isn’t anybody listening!” He popped a nut in his mouth and continued. “Everyone's all wrapped up in themselves.”  
“I’m not gonna push my luck.” Benny snuffed the cigarette in an ashtray as their orders were placed in front of them. Nicely thanked the waiter and dug in, stopping as he noticed Benny hardly picking at his meal.   
“Ben, c’mon now,” he cooed, wiping ketchup away from his mouth. “Now you have to tell me what’s wrong!”  
“Lost my appetite, is all,” he mumbled, pushing away the plate. “All yours.”  
Nicely’s brow creased in worry. “Benny…”  
“You ever think about your life, Nicely?” Benny asked, looking up and locking eyes with the other man. “Your life with a doll?”  
“My life with a doll?” Nicely was so taken aback he giggled. “Aww, Ben, you know how dolls are, they tie you down, they drain your bank, they —“  
“Y’know, I can see you.” Benny pulled his plate closer and stuffed a couple fries in his mouth, continuing as he chewed. “Little place in, what, Brooklyn? A doll on your arm. Two kids,” he ribbed, amping up the teasing tone. “Assistant manager of the A&P. I can see you there, Mr. Johnson.”  
Nicely laughed, slapping the table. “Benny, Benny, stop, you’re gonna put me on a stretcher!”  
“Comin’ home after a long day at work. You say to your wife, ‘honey! What’s for dinner!’ ‘What’s for dinner?’” He mocked, making his voice high and nasally, “‘alright, mr what's-for-dinner, maybe you can tell me what you made!’”  
“Aw, Benny, why’d you make my wife such a crone?”  
Benny kept going. “So you flop down in the chair in front of the TV and turn on the races. You can hear her microwaving meatloaf from last time she could be damned to cook, just knowing it’s gonna be slimy as a slug.” Benny popped a fry in his mouth, smiling as Nicely cackled away. “And you hear it,” he said as he took two of his fries and made then run across the table, “pitter patter pitter patter — and they POUNCE,” he exclaimed, throwing the fries onto Nicely’s sandwich. “Knock the wind right out of you. Start yapping about what they learned in school. Talkin about circles and their own names and such.”  
Nicely took up the fries, laugh subsiding to just an occasional giggle. “Aw, Benny, you had me worried over —“  
“Boy and a girl. The girl’s just like you. Got your looks, got your personality, all of it. Girl will yap for days. The boy’s like his mother. Got a lip on him, but, god, you love him.” Benny’s voice dropped softer.   
“And you hold em in your arms till she brings out dinner and they sit on your lap and eat reheated meatloaf and you just sit and listen and make em laugh until you take em up to bed and tuck em away,” benny muttered.   
“Benny—“ nicely started, back to concerned.   
“You look at em, and know you have the whole world, and you’re happy.” He took a long sip of his drink. “You’d be good at that. At that fathering business. You’d be…” he trailed off, looking at a couple at another table. Looking at the bottles behind the bar. Looking at the bad art on the wall. Looking at anything but the other man.   
Benny rubbed over his eyes, pinching at the temple like he had a headache. He wasn’t sobbing, but maybe he was a little misty, alright? Some days were rough. Some days built up. He glanced around, taking another drag. God bless new york, nobody even blinked an eye. He sniffed, forcing himself back together before pushing his plate away again. “It’d be funny, you with a doll.”  
Nicely had fallen silent. Benny turned out, pretending to focus on his drink. He looked up as he heard shuffling and clattering. In the corner of his eye, he saw Nicely’s big hands set money on the table. The other man stepped in front of him and offered a hand. “Let’s go, c’mon.”  
“Nicely, don’t mind —“  
“Isn’t nothing! Cmon,” he repeated, offering his hand again.   
Benny very carefully took the mit in front of him, rising to his feet and eyeing the room. He rubbed over his eyes one more time, getting rid of anything that threatened to spill over. “If you go doing somethin’ cheesy…”  
“Don’t worry.” He reached back, grabbing the untouched sandwich from the other’s plate and taking a bite. “You just head on home and get all curled up. Turn on the races. You like the races! Or some kinda baseball game. Watch some kinda sports. I’m just gonna run and…” he took a moment to think. “... Talk to Nathan. Yeah! I’m talkin’ to Nathan,” he decided.”  
“Nicely, you are clearly lying.”  
“Aww, Benny, now that doesn’t sound like me!” He pushed the other man up and out onto the sidewalk, pointing him towards home. “You just hurry on home. Turn on the TV. Watch something, alright?”  
Benny tossed him a look. A look that said I’m never speaking to you again and god, you’re too endearing. “Alright, alright. I’m going. You tell ‘Nathan,’” he said, putting quotes in his tone, “that I say hi.”  
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Now you head on home, Benny!”  
Benny did as he was told. He tossed back one last look, seeing the shorter man disappear into the crowd. He shook his head, cursing himself for getting worked up over less than nothing. Doll talk. Doll talk, it was always doll talk with them, talking about families or emotions -- he grumbled to himself as he walked towards their dingy little apartment. Something about a guy like Nicely. It went and turned things upside down.

His head swiveled as the door creaked open. “Nicely? You home?”  
“No,” Nicely called back, struggling with a deal of bags.   
Benny stood, tossing off the blanket around his shoulders and grabbing one of the packages the other was struggling with. He was met with a sharp kick in the shin.   
“Stop!”  
“Ow! Nicely, what the hell did you go and do that for?”  
“Don’t touch -- go back to the couch,” Nicely commanded, weaseling through the tight door frame into their humble kitchen.   
Benny leaned in the frame. “Nicely, if this is something harebrained --”  
“It’s nothing! Go away!” Nicely set the bags down and turned to the other, giving him a push. “Out! Out! Goodbye! Goodbye! I’m busy! I’m not even here! Goodbye!”  
Benny eventually gave in with a shrug. As long as he didn’t burn the place down. 

He was starting to regret losing his appetite at the restaurant.   
His stomach gurgled again, reminding him that it had needs despite his emotional distress. He saw Nicely emerge from the kitchen, happily munching on a carrot. He settled onto the couch and curled into the other’s shoulder. Benny took the carrot and bit himself off a chunk. “So, are you home yet, or…”  
“No.” Nicely maneuvered the other’s hand to his mouth and took another bite before releasing the vegetable back to the other man. “I’m not home for…” he checked his watch. “Twenty more minutes.”  
“Oh, I don’t know if I can wait twenty more minutes,” he teased, leaning to kiss his cheek.   
“Oh, Benny!” He shoved him away with a snicker. “Don’t go tempting me into sin!”  
“Oh, Atticus, you’re the one tempting me,” he drawled.   
“Don’t you dare!” He drew back in faux scandal. “Using my full name, Benny, that’s a dirty trick!”  
He chuckled and snapped off another bite of carrot. “Why aren’t you home yet, if I may?”  
“Just not.” He stretched, yawning as his eyes flicked lazily to the TV. “Who won?”  
“Hm?”  
“The last race,” he clarified. “Who won?”  
“Hmm…” Benny smirked. “You’ll have to find out when you get home.”  
Nicely huffed and stalked back to the kitchen. “You’re a real bastard, Benjamin.”  
“See you when you’re home, honey,” he ribbed. 

Benny’s eyes had started to droop when he smelled something… odd. Not bad, no, quite good actually, but it was a smell that had never once permeated the air of their shabby little apartment.   
He rose from the couch with a grunt and leaned in the doorway of the kitchen. Nicely was stirring a pot. The counter was littered with chopped up things, false starts, the whole nine yards. He felt a smile creep up over his face. “Didn’t know we even had a pot.”  
Nicely startled. “Ben!”  
“You home yet?” he asked, throwing an arm around the other’s shoulders. “Starting to miss you a deal.”  
Nicely huffed. He pulled over a bowl and ladled in some of the savory smelling stuff from the pot. “There. You vulture. Go on.”  
Benny turned it over with his spoon. Noodles, chunks of chicken and carrot… “Nicely, you made this?”  
Nicely just hummed, serving himself a bowl.   
“Why’ve we been eating cans of beans for the last three years when you could just go and do something like this?”  
“I have!” Nicely defended as he took his own spoonful. “Only you were so sick, you probably don’t remember. Remember that, Benny? You were so sick, you just sat on the sofa and sweat and yakked for a week and a half —“  
Benny waved it off. “Don’t want to remember. What’s the occasion?”  
“Hm? Oh,” Nicely said like he was remembering something. “Oh, it’s what my mother always threw together when one of us was feeling sick. Not a lot of money, you know, so it was cheap and made kept us alive until we could go back to normal food.” He blew on a spoonful and shoveled it down. “So it’s a comfort food. When we’d come home sick, chicken soup. Come home tired? Chicken soup. Come home sad? Chicken soup. She’d make it whenever one of us needed it, no ifs or buts.”  
Benny had fallen silent.   
Nicely popped a chunk of carrot in his mouth and chewed. “This is about what you said earlier.”  
“Nicely…” he huffed a laugh, setting the bowl aside as he couched his face in his hand, smiling massively. “You are ridiculous.”  
“Oh, you don’t like the soup?”  
“I… you knucklehead,” he laughed. “If you aren’t the most sentimental little thing in this city —“  
Nicely gave him a playful shrug. “Figured you were hungry too. Two birds.”  
Benny felt his eyes misting over again. Not now, not now —  
“Benny, I was thinking about that stuff you asked. In the restaurant? All the things you were weepy over,” he clarified, letting a spoonful drip back into the bowl. “I was thinking about the little family you made up for me. About my kids, and my wife. You know, Benny, I really liked the kids! They seemed great. But the wife, no, the wife was bad. Didn’t like the wife. So I got to swapping some things around in my mind. I thought, okay, so Benny’s the wife. And I’m not saying you’re a wife! You’re just filling the role. So, you’re the wife here. I liked that idea a lot better. I know we can’t tie things off officially or anything, but you know. We’d take care of each other. All that stuff married people do.” He was yammering like he was talking about the weather, light and meaningless. “And so I thought, well, if Benny’s the wife, that means no kids. Which is a shame! I did like the kids that you made for me, Benny, honest, I did. But then I thought: well, not those kids, fine. But maybe different kids. Orphanages don’t ask many questions, really. Well, they ask a few. We could ask Mrs. Sarah to go in for us! Oh, they’d give her one in a heartbeat. Oh, but she wouldn’t want to go lying… oh, but Skye would! I’ll ask Skye. Yeah, he’s in town next week. He’d be fine with going in for us.” He settled back against the counter and took another spoonful. “Were you thinking a boy or a girl?”  
Benny just blinked. His breathing has grown more shallow, stomach twisting with — well, more emotions then he had any idea how to sort. Fear, joy, everything else — he reached and grabbed the counter while it all processed. “Nicely… this isn’t… this isn’t something funny you’re saying, right?”  
“Usually the funny things I say make you laugh, Ben.”  
Benny rubbed over his eyes, letting it wash over him. “There’s… Nicely, this isn’t… it isn’t what I meant, to start.” He saw that the other’s big brown eyes were trained on him and sighed. He’d never been good with words. Nicely was the one that was good with words — or at least, he had enough to use until he’d stumble on something alright.   
Benny took another breath and ran right at it. “If we want a kid, that’s more then we can do right now. We’ll need to talk it all out. Really think on that. Find a story to use, a plan for school … hell, do we even send them to school?” He shook his head like he was trying to recollect his thoughts. “Right. So that topic, that topic goes in the ‘for later’ box. What I… what I was worried about in the restaurant…” he rubbed the back of his neck, sorting his words. “... so, Nicely… we’re a little bit settled, huh?”  
Nicely took a big bite of soup. “We were talking about kids, Ben.”  
“Guess that’s fair.” Benny plucked up his spoon and spun it in his fingers, still not looking at his partner. “S’not what we ever expected, is all.”  
“Guess not,” Nicely said with a shrug.   
“And it’s… a lot of things that are gonna hold you back.” He finally looked up. “Between keeping the secret and not being able to go around with whoever you want anymore… i just worry if I’m holding you back at all.”  
Nicely considered that for a moment. He gave his bowl and stir, watching the contents shift and settle. He took another bite while Benny waited with baited breath.   
Nicely finally just shrugged. “Nah. I love you.” He tipped back the last of his bowl and went over to refill it. “Let’s hurry up, alright, it’s time for the news with that anchor you like.”  
Benny watched him walk out of the kitchen and settle down on the chair, turning the TV to the right station. The other man took a moment to be mesmerized by the flashing lights, then looked over and patted the seat next to him.   
Benny just took a moment to stare. Usually he was alright at thinking. Right now, he wasn’t.   
So instead, he gathered his bowl, settled in against the other man on the couch, and took a big spoonful.   
Pretty good soup, he decided.   
Not world-changing, but it would do.


End file.
